More Than Magic
by Marvel Maiden Squalls
Summary: AU: Every one hundred years, every country in Europe is sacrificed to keep the magic powers they have been granted. It is Pudding's generation's time, and she finds herself as one of the sacrifices.


AN: That's right fellas! XD 5K in the last 5 hours of the contest! Woooo!

And sorry about all the typos, didn't get a chance to edit it.

"Your Highness, you must hurry," a voice called from the other side of the door.

"Pudding don't wanna go Na No Da," she pouted, crawling deeper under her covers.

"It is your duty, Your Highness," he said, becoming very impatient. "If you do not have your royal hiney out here in 5 minutes I will knock down this door, and drag you out here, pyjamas and all." Defiantly, the little girl staid where she was, anxiously waiting out the time limit. Precisely on time, as he always was, the door to her room flew off its hinges and smashed into the sliding glass doors that led out onto the balcony. He marched into the and whipped the blankets off of her. His body was immediately struck by a bolt of yellow energy, sending him crashing into her shelf of China Dolls.

"Pudding no go!" she shouted, her voice no thick with her Italian accent. She stood strongly on her bed, arms held out before her, swirling with yellow magic, her short blond hair in tiny pigtails, and a short nightgown covering her body. Slowly, the man, got to his feet, and brushed the broken glass from his suit.

"I'm sorry," he said, adjusting his glasses. "But whether you want to go or not is irrelevant." With the flick of his wrist white magic shot out at her. She jumped off the bed, reaching high enough to push off the ceiling that was 15 feet above her. She through yellow magic at her vanity desk, which reflected off the mirror and struck his outstretched hand, creating a white shield.

"Your Highness please," he sighed, sending strings of white magic at her from all directions. She spun around, creating a mini tornado of yellow, deflecting the strings effortlessly. They ended up piercing the walls around them, causing them to give way and crumble, but the room still stood.

"No!" she screamed, creating a giant hammer, and hitting him with it hard. It deflected off of his white shield, and sailed upward, destroying the ceiling. He moved faster than she expected, and grabbed wrists, gripping them harder than he wanted to.

"Stop being so stubborn," he snapped, dragging her to the door. She tried pulling against his hold, but he was too strong.

"Let go!" She screamed, flinging her hands open, and striking him in the head with beams of yellow magic. He let go and stumbled to the side, breaking the mirror that hung on the wall. She backed away toward the balcony, watching him sit up, blood trailing down his face.

"You cheated," he sighed, a playful look on his face.

"I'm serious," she replied plainly. She turned to jump out the window but a wall of white magic blocked her way.

"Charlie," she groaned, turning toward him with fury brightening her eyes.

"Not me," he grinned, adjusting his now broken glass. High heels clicked in the hallway, and got louder as they enter her room.

"Hm, you made a bigger mess than you usually do," the woman sighed, lips pursed as she examined the room.

"Me serious about not going," Banana huffed.

"Sorry, but you can't even try to get out of this event," the woman sighed, waving her hand. It was as if time were being rewound. All the damage that had been done reversed itself, putting itself back together. The wound on Charlie's face even healed, and his glasses whole.

"Honey, get your dress on, we leave in half hour," the woman ordered, helping Charlie to his feet.

"No," she huffed, folding her arms.

"You will not say 'no' again," she said too calmly, glaring at the little girl.

"N-" Before she could finish, her mouth was sown together, literally, by a white needle with white thread, causing her lips to bleed. Her eyes watered, and she screamed in pain, trying to undo the sewing, but it only hurt more when she touched it.

"Don't worry about getting blood on the dress," the woman said, following Charlie out the door. "I'll just clean it off when you come out. And you will be out here in 10 minutes, or I'll tie you to the back of the carriage when we leave." She closed the door, leaving Pudding all by herself, the only sound of her muted sobs.

"You are so cruel Violet," Charlie said, looking at her admiringly.

"Trust me, she'll experience much worse," she sighed, fixing her crystal white hair.

_Why?,_ Pudding thought desperately, clawing at the neat purple carpet. _Why me? Why do I have to do it? Why do I have to live with such violent caretakers? Why won't anyone answer my questions?_ Her tears soaked up the carpet along with the blood from her lips as she quietly, and slowly got changed. She put on the white Victorian-style dress, using her magic to tighten it around her small form. She let her hair hang out, and tied a black ribbon in it. She slipped her feet into a pair of white heels, making it out of her room just under 10 minutes. If she were even one second late, Violet would have gone through with the threat.

A few escorts were waiting for her, and she made her way down the hall with one on each side of her, on in front of her, and the other behind her. Violet hadn't made any threats about escaping, but she always took precautions. Pudding could've easily escaped these guys, but it would've given Violet enough warning and catch her without even blinking. So she did as she was told. As much as she hated it, there was no way of getting out of her duties.

She was the Princess of Italy, and carried her family's strong tie to magic in her royal blood. She along with 49 families carried such a bond. Everyone else had only a basic connection, but there were those, like Violet, who learned to control it better and could rival with the royal families. There was a catch to having such powers though. That's where her, and the other 49 princess's part came in. Every century, each family had to sacrifice their youngest member to The Great. The Great was an immortal being who came to the Earth, altering the course of history. It gave them the gift of magic, and connection to the earth and its elements. Those more than others, because the royal families were the first to believe in it. He gifted them greater, stronger magic, and made them the rulers of the countries of Europe.

Pudding entered the foyer, where Violet and Charlie stood waiting. Her bags were piled near the door, and one by one being taken out to the carriage. Her escorts scattered, heading off in different directions, and she stood there silently, her lips still sown shut, and her dress sprinkled with blood. Violet was going over some details with Charlie in hushed voices, and she didn't seem to notice her. Feeling tired, she tried to sit down on the bench, but a barrier forbade it.

"Now, now," Violet said sweetly. "We don't want to wrinkle your dress now do we." _I'll be sitting in the carriage_, Pudding wanted to say out loud, but couldn't.

"Oh right," she nodded, flicking her fingers. The thread was suddenly ripped out of her, causing her to cry out in pain, but it soon disappeared, along with the red on her dress.

"We'll be ready to leave soon," Charlie nodded. "I'll fetch something for us to eat along the way." He left briskly, leaving Violet, and the young Princess Pudding to stand in the foyer, while servants packed their belongings.

"What's the point of Pudding even bringing anything?" she sighed, folding her arms. "Me won't be needing it in two weeks."

"But you will need it for the two weeks leading up to the big day," Violet pointed out. "There's no need to feel so bitter. You're doing a great thing. You are fulfilling your duty as a part of this family."

"Tell that to my unborn brother or sister," she mumbled. Her mother was pregnant with another child. Since it wasn't born yet, she was still technically the youngest member of the family. They did it on purpose, she thought bitterly. Father wanted a son as his eldest. If that baby's a boy, he'll have his wish. I'll be gone by then.

"Come, we may board now," Violet chimed, when Charlie returned. "Don't worry Honey. Everything will be alright."

"It's Pudding," she snapped, walking out to the horse-drawn carriage awaiting them.

* * *

The ride had been long, but not as long as the train ride they were taking. They had to travel all the way to France. Every ceremony takes part in a different country each century, and this time around it was taking part in Spain. She'd never been to Spain before, nor to any other country. She was left alone in that huge house by her parents to be brought up by Charlie and Violet. She saw them on holidays, but that was about it.

It was night, and Violet and Charlie were surely asleep. Pudding sat up awake. It had been a week since they took off, and they were somewhere in France. She was also very tired. Not tired physically, because she had gotten too much of that, but tired of being bored. They were the only ones on the train, except for this one family that got on yesterday. She hadn't seen them much, just that they had to very, very large people, and one tiny kid about her size. They didn't interact at all, not even to have a meal together. The only entertainment Pudding had was drawing, or practising her magic, which was useless because she wouldn't be using it soon.

Fed up, she flung herself out of bed, her bare feet coming into contact with the cold floor. She ignored it, and opened the door, leading out into the hallway. Making sure not to make any noise, she made her way to the caboose. She had gone out there a couple nights, and watched everything fade into the distance, as if it were being swallowed up, and ceasing to exist, just like she was going to be. She carefully hopped from car to car, wondering why it was so long if there were so few passengers. Her heart leaped when she found she was coming to the next car, but it stopped when she realized someone else was there. She plastered her face against the window in the door separating them in order to get a better look.

It was a boy. He had short brown hair that rested on his shoulders, and wore white pyjamas. _Just like my nightgown,_ she thought looking down at herself. _He must be his family's sacrifice...Youngest member I mean..._ Curiously, Pudding slid the door open, causing him to leap back in surprise. He stared at her with confusion in his brown eyes, but it soon faded with each blink.

"Hi," she said brightly, closing the door behind her. "I'm Pudding! What's your name?"

"Um, Tart," he smiled. "You must be zee Prince of Italy no?"

"Your accent is funny," she giggled.

"And yours isn't?" he asked, making a face. "I find it weird how they make us all learn Anglais."

"It's so we can communicate," she shrugged. "So you're the Prince of France?"

"Oui," he bowed, taking her hand. "It tis, very nice to meet you." He lightly kissed her hand, causing her to blush a beat red.

"O-oh my," she stammered, fiddling with her hair.

"So what do you think is going to happen?" Tart asked, leaning back on the railing. "The ceremony I mean." Pudding rolled her eyes.

"Me could care less," Pudding shrugged. "My whole life me have been told me was going to die for my family, so that's all that's going to happen. We're going to die." Tart made a face.

"Maybe I shouldn't have chosen that as our first discussion topic," he chuckled lightly, scratching his head nervously. "How about telling me about yourself? What's your magic like?"

"Yellow." she held up her hand and a ball of yellow magic appeared.

"Me not sure about any specifics," she shrugged. "Me only learned to blow stuff up with it, and make shapes out of it."

"What kind of shapes?" he asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Stuff that causes damage," she shrugged. "Hammers mostly."

"You didn't learn to do anything else?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Didn't learn much because me had no one to teach Pudding," she shrugged. "Me only learned violent stuff cause that's how me got out of certain things. Charlie would play good cop, come in and fight with me to try and get Pudding to do what I was suppose to do, and if he succeeded in grabbing my hands, me would give up. But if he didn't me wouldn't have to do it. If it got too messy though, Violet would intervene, and there was no way of getting out of it then."

"You were abandoned by your family?" Tart said, looking shocked.

"Yeah," Pudding nodded, "I guess you could say that."

"That is so awful," he gasped, taking her hands, making her blush again. "You are a very strong girl." He looked at her admiringly. "Growing up, and teaching yourself how to use your magic without anyone's help. And living alone without your family close to you. That must have been so hard."

"Uh, yeah," she nodded solemnly. "It was."

"Yet look how you turned out," he smiled brightly. "A bright young woman, who's fulfilling her duty."

"Why thank you," she giggled. "But me did fight about this, so me really not doing this willingly."

"Willingly or not, you are not abandoning your family," he nodded. "And that is admirable." But I wish I could, she thought. The two of them staid up almost all night talking, but they had to hurry back to their rooms so they wouldn't get caught. For the rest of the trip that was their routine: meet around midnight and stay up talking until 5, sleep for a couple hours, spend the day separated, got to bed at 10, and wake up for midnight again. She was glad Violet and Charlie didn't question her slightly better mood, because she wasn't even sure what to say. Why can't I see him anyways?, she thought eating her soup, staring Violet and Charlie down. What's so wrong about meeting him? She never did ask these questions aloud, cause if she did, she feared they would tighten their watch on her, and find out about her nightly meetings.

* * *

They had finally made it to Spain. They didn't get off right away when they stopped, probably to let the French family get off first. Pudding followed obediently and climbed into the carriage that awaited them, and stared out the window curiously. Spain looked a lot like Italy, except the buildings were slightly different, and everyone who walked the streets spoke Spanish.

"We will be staying in a hotel just down the street from where the ceremony will be held," Charlie explained. "There will be other people there who will be just like you. The youngest of their family, and the sacrifices."

"Will me actually be able to talk to them?" Pudding asked, looking at them intently.

"You will have meals with them yes," Violet nodded. "But that's it."

"What will me do the rest of the time?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Staying in your room of course," Charlie smiled. "But I'm afraid to say there can be no more 'episodes' between us. You have to simply do as you are told."

"Fine," she sighed, folding her arms. The hotel was huge, and extravagant, and really eye appealing from the inside out, but it was dead quiet. No one walked the halls, you couldn't hear anything from the rooms, and you most certainly could visit because they all had 'Do No Disturb' signs on them. _Guess I'm not the only sheltered one, _she thought. She was only in her room for 10 minutes before she was rushed out again. Violet said that dinner was starting soon, and she best not be late.

She travelled down the corridors, dressed in the Victorian-style dress that she had left in. She travelled down a few flights of stairs into the basement, where there was a private party room. She heard a light buzz coming from behind the doors just up ahead of her, and decided to see if that was where she was suppose to go. She opened the door only a crack, and her eyes opened in surprise. Everyone inside was dressed in white: the girls in Victorian dresses, and the boys in fancy suits, ranging from small children to adults. The only thing that stood out from each individual was their hair, eye, and skin colour.

"Hi Pudding," a French voice greeted.

"Tart," she gasped in delight, when he came up beside her.

"Too anxious to enter?" he asked, with a playful grin.

"There's just so many people in there," she smiled, marvelling at the crowd.

"Forty-eight people, besides us," he nodded. "Shall we enter together?" He held out his arm to her.

"O-okay," she stammered, blushing as she took his arm. He pushed the doors open, abut only a few turned their heads to watch them enter.

"Alright everyone, take your seats," a voice called over everyone. There was a large table in the centre of the room. It reached from one end to the other, just long enough to fit everyone. Tart pulled a seat out for Pudding to sit at, which she did gratefully, and he lightly pushed it in for her.

"Hello," greeted the girl beside her. Her accent was a thick Spanish.

"Hi," Pudding smiled, returning the greeting. The girl had shoulder length red hair that was held up in two ponytails by white ribbons.

"I'm Ichigo," she continued. "I'm the Princess of Spain."

"Wow, so you didn't have to travel at all?" the girl across from them gasped. Her hair was in long green braids, and she held a Greek accent.

"Lucky," the girl beside her snorted. "I had to travel by boat, carriage _and _train to get here." She sounded British.

"I'm the Princess of Italy, Pudding," she beamed, turning back to Ichigo.

"I'm Lettuce, the Princess of Greece, the girl with green hair and glasses nodded.

"Mint, Princess of Britain," the blue-haired girl nodded, taking a sip from her tea cup.

"I'm Tart, Prince of France," he spoke up from his spot beside Pudding. The other girls stopped and stared at him.

"Aren't you suppose to be at that end of the table?" Mint asked snottily. She pointed to the other end where all the other boys sat.

"Why does it matter where we sit?" Pudding asked, making a face.

"Just follow the rules," a new voice spoke up from behind her. She looked up and saw a tall, poise young woman with long purple hair. "There's a spot near the end," the girl continued, her accent a thick Russian. "Move." Tart looked at Pudding gravely, but he got up, and gave the girl his spot. Pudding watched with a sinking heart as he walked away from her.

"You're attached to him aren't you?" Ichigo asked.

"Um, sure, me guess you could say that," she shrugged.

"But how?" Lettuce asked with great interest. "Where did you find the time?"

"Um, we were on the same train," she shrugged. "Me sneak out of my room at night and meet him at the caboose. We talk all night."

"That's so romantic," Ichigo cooed.

"But it's against the rules," the girl with purple hair spoke up.

"That's Zakuro, Princess of Russia," Ichigo whispered into Pudding's ear.

"They keep us apart for a reason," Lettuce explained. "They want us to grow up in solitude so that we have no connection with anyone, so no one will be overly depressed about us dieing."

"That's morbid," Pudding huffed. "So me can't even have a guy friend?"

"He seemed like more than a friend," Mint pointed out. "I think he likes you."

"Y-you mean romantically?" Pudding gasped lightly, blushing.

"I think so too," Ichigo winked, "but it's okay, I have a romantic relationship too."

"With who?" Lettuce asked, leaning forward.

"The Prince of Portugal," she beamed. "We've been seeing each other for awhile. He comes and sneaks into Spain once a week, but now he doesn't have to. He's right on the other side of the table."

"You kids know nothing of rules do you?" Zakuro sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"We're kids, we're suppose to break them," Pudding snapped. "You can't honestly say that you haven't broken _any_ rules in your life." Their part of the table fell silent, waiting for her to answer.

"Alright I have broken a rule," she nodded, "but it was because of that rule that my brother died, and I became the youngest member of the family."

"That's so sad," Pudding gasped, filling the awkward silence that fell upon them.

"That's life," she shrugged. The rest of the meal was covered by small talk here and there, because they were marvelling over the delicious food they were having, and savouring the taste.

"Can I walk you up to your room?" Tart asked, hurrying over to her when everyone split up to head back to their rooms quietly.

"Won't you get in trouble?" Pudding asked with worry.

"I'm dieing tomorrow," he shrugged nonchalantly. "What's a little trouble gong to get me?" Pudding nodded, but shivered at the reminder that the ceremony was to be tomorrow.

"Are you scared?" he asked quietly, taking her arm, and wrapping it around his.

"Not really," she sighed. "Me not really sure. Me thought me was, but now me not so sure how to feel about anything. My life has been planned out for Pudding the moment me was born. Me not sure if me can get out of this."

"Maybe we can...," Tart began, lowering his voice.

"But..how?" she asked, making a face.

"We could run away," he suggested, slowing his pace down.

"We can't do that," she gasped in shock. "We could lose our powers!"

"Would that be so bad?" he asked, looking optimistic. "If the rest of the world can live without powers, why can't we?"

"But that's not something you can decide," Pudding protested. "That's for everyone with magic to decide."

"Don't we get to decide?" he countered. "We're the one's getting sacrificed, don't we have a say?"

"Well...," she began, not sure where she was going with it.

"It's okay," he smiled, moving a piece of her hair form her face. "Just have sweet dreams tonight. It'll be the last time you do." Pudding couldn't help but feel spooked, but calmed down when Tart kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night my princess," he smiled, leaving her outside her bedroom door. She sighed, deeply, and danced into her room in a daze.

* * *

The next morning was cold, and silence had fallen across the whole city, probably across the whole continent. Pudding dressed in heavy white robes, and let her hair out loose, just like everyone else. Single file, the sacrifices made their way out of the hotel and down the street. Pudding had looked around eagerly for Tart, but couldn't find him anywhere. She followed closely behind Lettuce, and Mint was close behind her. No one talked as they were lead inside a large dome-shaped building lit by flickering candles. The 50 of them circled around the room around a central thicker candled, and turned inwards to face it. Pudding managed to catch sight of Tart, but he didn't seem to notice her.

"Turn outward," a loud voice called from the shadows. Everyone turned their back to the centre. "Close your eyes, and relax. You are making a great sacrifice for your ancestors." Pudding was reluctant, but closed her eyes. This was it. She would no longer dream, she would no longer wake up to a bright new sun, she would no longer fight with Charlie, or be tortured by Violet, and she would no longer see Tart. Shaken by fear, she tried to open her eyes, but couldn't. They were stuck. Panicked, tears streamed down her face. _No..._, she thought. _No please..._

It was suddenly very hot, and Pudding was drenched with sweat. Open your eyes, she kept telling herself. Open them... It took a lot of concentration, but she was able to, except she didn't find herself in an outward-faced circle, but in meadow. _What...?_ she thought. She could feel the cool, long grass brushing against her legs, the warm sun on her face, the soft breeze in her hair.

"But me never experienced this before...," she spoke aloud in confusion.

"I know," a calm voice replied. Startled, Pudding turned around and found a man with very long black hair sitting on a hill. "It's what I wished I felt."

"Why do you wish it?" she asked, making a face.

"It's better than where they have me locked up now," he sighed, turning his head upward to look straight into the sun. "I only feel this once a century, the rest of the time it's darkness."

"M-me confused," she stammered, taking a step back.

"They tell you that I gave them magic powers, and demand their youngest members in order for them to keep their powers," he replied, stretching out on the grass. "That's all a lie. They use their youngest members to trap me here. See, when I came here, I influenced things here, and the people were able to use magic. They got greedy, like humans always do, and they trapped me here. I'm left in total darkness, and once a century I'm let into the minds of their chosen, and live through their experienced before they are slaughtered by those they call family, and their blood spilled on the seal to keep it closed."

"That can't be true," Pudding protested. "They would never do that."

"Putting people in solitude is what they do best," the man replied, running a hand over his face. "They isolated all of you didn't they? That's what they did to me, but for one thousands of your life time. You will soon be put out of your misery, but I will have to suffer like this for the rest of eternity, or unless a ceremony gets messed up, and I find a chance to escape and go home."

"Home?" Pudding asked, sitting down on the grass.

"Of course," he smiled. "I have a family as well. I miss them so much. I wonder how they've been getting along without me." Pudding watched him closely, as he thought about the past.

"I am actually immortal," he said suddenly. "Just like they say. But this technically isn't living. I can\t prove my immortality if I'm frozen in time."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, cutting him off.

"Because one day I'm hoping there will be someone strong enough to break hold of the spell on them," he shrugged. "And when they do, they'll know the truth and be able to do something about it right away. I tell everyone this story, but so far, no one has broken free."

"Me will," Pudding shouted, jumping to her feet.

"I'm sure you will," he nodded. "I at least have a few who do try."

"Me won't try," she said proudly. Concentrating, she called forth her yellow magic. Me use it for destroying stuff..., she reminded herself mentally. Me shall use it to destroy the seal... her body was consumed by the magic, and she screamed out as she sent it in all direction, blinding herself and the man.

Pudding's eyes snapped open, and she found herself in the middle of a blood bath. Almost half of the sacrifices had been killed, which included Lettuce, and the other half were defending themselves by killing their attackers. Pudding dodged to the side, just missing a stream of white magic. Panicked, she took off, hoping to find a safe place to hide. _Please let Tart be okay, please let Tart be okay,_ she kept repeating to herself. All of a sudden, she felt her hands being pierced by something solid, and she was jerked up into the air, hanging exposed to every attack out there. She looked around frantically, her eyes stung with tears of pain, and she found Violet amongst the chaos.

"You lied to Pudding," she spat in frustration.

"We want to keep our powers deary," she shrugged, walking up to her. "We sealed the place, so you will all eventually die."

"You are evil!" she shrieked. "Let Pudding go."

"Sorry, but I can't do that," she smirked evilly. Pudding cringed when the pan in her hands increased, and she even screamed out, but stopped when she hit the ground without warning.

"Pudding, Pudding are you okay?" A frantic voice asked.

"T-tart," she gasped, looking up into his worried brown eyes.

"It's okay," he said in a soothing voice. "She's dead. I killed her."

"Th-thank you," she sobbed, cradling her hurt hands.

"Anytime," he smiled, "but I'm afraid there are too many. We're going to lose."

"At least we tried," she sighed, moving closer to him. "At least we found out the truth..."

"Yes," he agreed, petting her hair. They sat there, listening to the chaos rage on as more and more blood was spilled. Just when Pudding really thought she was going to guy, there was a loud crack, causing the building to shake violently, causing the ceiling to cave and walls to shatter. She held onto Tart tightly, but lost control over what she was doing when her sight was overcome by a bright light.

"Pudding, wake up," a calm voice said. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and she was staring up at the man with long black hair.

"You okay?" she croaked.

"Yes, thanks to you," he smiled, smoothing out her hair. "I can finally return home."

"Good," she smiled weakly. Gently, he kissed her on the forehead.

"Sleep well, Princess Pudding," he whispered. "When you wake up, you won't have powers, but you will have something better."

"What is that?" she asked, her sight fading.

"Family." He smiled, and the last thing she saw was of the beautiful meadow.


End file.
